My Heartbeat Voice: Baring My Authentic Soul

When Allison Ross first suggested I start blogging on a collaborator’s hub, I felt a wave of resistance.

“I’m not a blogger… something here is resisting. Let me sit with it.” Maybe it was because I didn’t want to feel pressured into weekly submissions for an external site, like I was now going to be working for the hub, required to do weekly submissions on top of my minimal social media presence.

Then after she shared her example of the skeleton page featuring all the authors and contributors, and mentioned that we could post at our own pace and voluntarily, I felt a percentage of my resistance dissolve, and I found myself getting a bit excited. Curious about the remaining resistance, I looked further within.

Looking deeper, I realized my hesitation was rooted in a fear of exposing my true self and my sovereignty being diminished. But what was even deeper was the resistance to putting my voice in the light more often and loudly, using a platform to share and show my vulnerabilities. My heartbeat voice, raw and unmasked, that has felt more than just celebrations. It’s a voice that has been down at the bottom of the dark pit, often rising and falling, feeling unsafe and vulnerable. No matter how deep or painful the vulnerability, cry or silence that has been belittled, seen and unseen, heard and unheard—this voice has a pulse, and that pulse is alive.

I have pulled out and shared this digitally created image of being alone in the bottom of a dark pit that expressed how I felt during a particularly challenging time —loss, difficulties in my marriage, and financial madness. This was my way of expressing how everything felt like too much, pushing me back into that deep, dark pit alone, bruised and vulnerable.

By being curious, I gained deeper clarity, compassion, and understanding of these fears. Here I am, baring my authentic soul and embracing vulnerability. I am the same curious little girl from when I first put on the mask, now more than ever with love and compassion. Vulnerable and safe, I rise and fall and rise again, telling myself, “I love me, even with all my masks, and I am free,” and my heart is open to express, love, and be loved and supported in return.